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A bad fall, and other adventures…

And really uncomfortable for anyone!

Today was my bus journey to my medical. I got on the correct bus, but then got off one stop too soon. I know the area, as I used to drive my daughter to dance lessons around there. I went along some back lanes and found it with 5 minutes to spare.

So much for my angst.

When I came out a slight shower had started, but I decided to come home through the park, which is beautiful and very famous. So the shower stopped, and I enjoyed doing some window shopping. As I came nearer to the park, I realised I was near some friends I hadn’t seen in a while. I turned into what I thought was their road, but I would learn that I was at the back of their house. So I tried knocking on their back door and there no reply. I didn’t want to disturb other people, so I started to go back the way I thought I had come. I came to a steep incline with a very low kerb, so I started up it cautiously. But my mobility scooter tipped over, and therefore so did I.

My head hit the ground and the back of my pelvis took a bang too. My instinctive thought always is I don’t want an ambulance. I started calling out for help. I was amazed at my lung power. My friend heard me and came running, calling my name. He picked me up and took me in a hug, while I just shook and kept saying Matthew, Matthew. Another man appeared and helped Matthew pick up mobility scooter (I call it my trolley).

I was taken in for a cup of tea. Matthew asked if I was concussed, so I said no, holding up one finger and said ‘Do you see five fingers too?’. I’m not concussed although a mild headache has set in. Matthew Bolt has seen me in several states of unwellness, and he is always great.

This evening I realised that my mothers funeral was seven years ago. I asked my school friend to make floral tributes from my Dad and from my sister and I.

Here are the flowers from my Dad.

My parents didn’t always have a happy marriage. My mother enjoyed being an officer’s wife, and missed the income after my Dad left the S.A.S. She would criticise him in front of my sister and me. I once saw her go at time with a knife. He protected himself with a chair. I often wished they would divorce.

I don’t miss my mother at all. When I heard she had died, my first reaction was death was relief. I had cared for her when she had a significant stroke, a year before her death. At first she was kind and complimenting me, but as the week went on she became less kind, and back her critical self.

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My poem won a prize!!…

I am still feeling a bit lethargic, which isn’t surprising. I went to bed at 8pm last night as I was fighting off sleep. I woke at 5.30ish and then slept again for a couple of hours. I am feeling the heaviness in my chest now. To think I should have done something on Saturday is a learning curve. There is no use in crying over spilt milk. (I would never say that to someone else, it is too blunt, I would say it more gently.)

I am supposed to go to a poetry reading tonight. I will have to see how I feel. I hope I will go, as I love to go out in the evening.

I just got an email to say that my poem Who I Am will be published by Hedgehog Press next year along with nine others. This is really thrilling. I am always thrilled to appear in anthologies, but one with only ten poems is really special. It has really cheered me up while I am feeling unwell.

I have to go to a medical tomorrow. A friend was going to take me, but has let me down, another friend is unavailable, so I will have to take a bus. I have angst over this, like I used to get angst when in an airport. I always had a dread that I would miss my plane.